


Deserving of Every Good Thing

by whaleandjanuary



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), a hint of background claurenz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleandjanuary/pseuds/whaleandjanuary
Summary: Hilda is going to convince Marianne to see herself the way Hilda sees her. She has a plan. It's foolproof. (It's sex the plan is sex.)
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58
Collections: Marihilda NSFW Week!





	Deserving of Every Good Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here I am, late to MariHilda NSFW week and without even any Starbucks. This is for the prompt "Praise." 
> 
> This takes place during chapter 15 of Verdant Wind, shortly before they leave for Aillel. (It also takes place during chapter 4 of Wartime Fling, on the off-chance that's relevant to anyone reading this. No, I have not finished chapter 4 of Wartime Fling yet.)

"Well, that was a productive outing, don't you think, Mari?" said Hilda, closing the doors to her bedroom. They had been doing what Hilda had started referring to as "scrounge-shopping," which involved a lot of searching the monastery for things they could use or trade. There were still a few merchants with items for sale, but certainly of less quality and variety than there used to be. Hilda found herself doing a lot of bartering, or more frequently, noticing where two people would benefit from bartering and connecting them in exchange for some of the goods. Claude had threatened to put her in charge of supply logistics. She had evaded the responsibility so far but Claude was probably going to win in the end, the bastard. 

"Yes it was ... nice," said Marianne, thoughtfully. "It was nice to take a walk around the grounds, even if it's a little cold and ..." She paused to consider. "I'm sad that we have so many refugees but happy we can help them."

Oh no. Hilda had fun plans. She didn't want Marianne getting down before they even started. Hilda took her hands. "Yes, and we're fighting to help everyone in a more permanent sense. But! For now let's enjoy the loot."

Hilda poured out the contents of her bag over the desk. There were leftover bits of cloth, metal scraps the blacksmith was willing to part with, a wooden curlicue from the end of a broken pew, and the real find, which was some metal wire. She'd spent nearly two hours going back and forth arranging the series of trades that landed it in her hands. And what a funny thing it was; Goneril still had money but sometimes that wasn't what people found valuable at all.

Hilda eagerly waved at the desk. "Pick some stuff you like. I'm going to make you some earrings. Maybe the purple fabric?"

"Oh." Marianne looked surprised. "Oh no, I couldn't. You spent so much time getting this. Don't use up your things on me."

"I'm not using them up! I'm using them; that's different." 

"Oh, but surely there's someone better you could -"

"Marianne von Edmund," said Hilda. "I said I wasn't going to let you get away with this sort of self-deprecation and I meant it! And no apologizing all the time, either!"

"I'm sorry, Hil - oh, hm." Marianne frowned.

"Well, that's sort of an improvement. Now we need to get you to stop halfway through the 'sorry' and then before you know it you'll be responding with, 'Don't worry, Hilda. I know I'm awesome, just like you!'" 

Marianne laughed, which was a rare and beautiful noise and Hilda had made it her life's mission to hear it as much as possible. 

"It's - Hilda, it's very nice of you to want to make something for me."

Hilda shrugged. "I'm not nice. _You_ are nice. I'm only nice when I want something from someone. But you are genuinely kind, and good, _and_ nice, and everyone loves you, and I am going to make you believe it!" 

Hilda led Marianne to sit on the bed. "And to that note, I have a plan. We are gonna stomp out this negativity like stepping on a spider!" 

Marianne's expression turned to horror. Hilda backtracked. "Uh, bad metaphor. We are going to, uh, cover it in positivity like you would cover a baby bird in a warm blanket to keep it safe until it learns to fly!" 

Marianne tilted her head. "Birds don't really usually use blankets."

Hilda cast about for a way to get things back on track. "Eggs! Mommy birds sit on eggs to keep them warm and safe! I will be the mommy bird of positivity and ... you know, forget metaphors anyway. When you're down, I'm going to tell you how wonderful you are until you believe me!"

"I ... okay," said Marianne, hesitantly, and Hilda broke out into a giant grin. 

"Now, let me see..." said Hilda, reaching into a pocket for her tiny notebook. She'd been using it to keep track of who could be bribed - uh, _persuaded_ with what, but she'd also started keeping a section for Things Marianne Needs Cheering Up About. She'd decorated it with little hearts and flowers, not that anyone else could see it. 

"All right. So, when we were looking through the fabric, you said that you weren't any good at at picking out colors." Hilda gave her a glare, but a loving one. Then she quickly rearranged her face to a more neutral expression, because she wasn't sure Marianne would know she didn't really mean it. 

"I'm sorry. I - mmm." Marianne frowned, then she threw her hands up. "Well it's true." 

"I beg to differ, but either way you don't need to put yourself down like it's _a sin_." There. That was a good way to frame it for Marianne. She frowned harder, which was just _so_ cute. Hilda needed to not laugh, lest Marianne think she was making fun instead of merely being full of affection. 

"Well, moving on for now," she said, managing to keep a straight(ish) face. "When we were moving those crates for the fishing master, you said, quote, 'I'm sorry I'm not very much help carrying things. I'm too weak and soft.'"

"I didn't say that." Marianne looked sincerely confused. 

"Yes, you did. I wrote it down. Oh no, Mari! You don't even know you're doing it, do you? Wait, no, do not - hold on!" Hilda clapped her hands onto Marianne's shoulders as panic started to wash over Marianne's face. "You are _wonderful_ and I want you to see it and believe it too." 

Hilda leaned forward and kissed Marianne on the lips, punctuating every word with another little smooch: "You. Are. Wonderful. To. Everybody. But. Especially. Me." 

When she leaned back, Marianne was smiling. "Thank you," she said. 

And ... you know, Hilda didn't need to go through the rest of the list. That was plenty of examples to start with. She tossed the notebook over her shoulder. 

"Okay, Mari. We have not good at colors, soft and weak, and doesn't deserve jewelry. Which one do you want to start with?" 

"Oh. I ... I don't know. What do you recommend?"

"Aw, you _are_ going to make me do all the work!" Hilda put her hands on her hips in mock annoyance. "That's all right. I think we should start with 'soft and weak,' because you're not weak, and soft isn't bad." 

Marianne gave her a skeptical look. 

"Hey, come on. I just want you to listen, okay? Even if you think I'm wrong, just listen. Weakness is relative. Maybe you're not as physically strong as me, but I saw you use a lance in your Pegasus Knight days. And physical strength is _not_ all it's cracked up to be. Look at all the things people expect me to carry! I am constantly breaking nails!"

Marianne gave a little smile at that. 

"But I didn't carry all those crates anyway!" Hilda continued. "I got some knights to help us. Yeah I can cut a guy in half. Who cares? _You_ , Marianne von Edmund, can heal people, and that's a much more impressive skill. I can't do magic to save my life, but you can and have done magic to save my and everybody else's life." 

"Oh, I, um..." Marianne looked slightly uncomfortable, but Hilda charged boldly forward. She put one hand on Marianne's hip and another on her cheek, so that she could look her in the eyes. 

"I know how hard it was for you to keep going while we were students. But you did it. And you came back. You could have stayed home and safe."

"Well, Professor Byleth..." Marianne put her hand over Hilda's, though, and gave a little squeeze. 

"You didn't know she was going to be there any more than the rest of us did. But you still came! Marianne, maybe you're not great at throwing boxes around, but you are the strongest person I know." 

Now Marianne was starting to blush, and it was the most beautiful sight in the world, her cheeks standing out rosy and warm. Hilda wanted to kiss them - actually, why wait? Hilda kissed both of her cheeks, then whispered, "I want to make you feel as good as you deserve." 

Marianne said a tiny little "oh," barely audible. 

"And as for the second part of it -" Hilda slid her hands over Marianne's body, one up and one down, until both hands were on Marianne's breasts. Marianne stared at Hilda with wide eyes, lips slightly parted, silent except for her quickening breaths. "- why would you ever say 'soft' like it's a bad thing?" Hilda gently squeezed, and hummed happily. 

"Oh, oh dear," said Marianne, as Hilda rubbed a thumb across one nipple. 

Hilda delighted in watching the blush spread further across Marianne as she undid the clasp at Marianne's throat. By the time Hilda pushed the dress down over her shoulders, the flush had traveled down her neck. Hilda grinned at Marianne, who was clearly fighting with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. 

(It wasn't as though they hadn't been intimate. They had, several times, in the nearly two months since the reunion and Professor Byleth's miraculous return. Marianne had been the one who'd kissed _Hilda_ , after they'd repelled the Imperial force surprising them at Garreg Mach. Every time, Marianne went through some unknowable internal struggle to convince herself this was ok, but she was really _quite_ enthusiastic once that bit was resolved.) 

Eventually Hilda freed Marianne's (perfect, round, _soft_ ) breasts, and bent down to suckle at one. Marianne's nipple pebbled pleasantly under her tongue, and the gasp Marianne let out was absolutely darling. 

"Hilda! Hildaaa!!!" squeaked Marianne. 

Hilda sat up rapidly. "Do you want me to stop?" 

Marianne blinked at her. She opened and then closed her mouth. She looked rapidly from side to side. "No. Please keep going." 

Hilda threw her arms around her. "I'm so happy you're enjoying this. Admitting you enjoy it. You are so good."

"Oh, oh, Hilda you don't need to keep doing that." 

Hilda sat back and crossed her arms. "I absolutely do. You don't believe me! I can see you don't believe me! Now hush. You clearly need to relax and I am an expert at relaxing." Hilda pushed Marianne's breasts together so she could lick both nipples at once. 

Marianne made a variety of extremely fun noises when Hilda played with her breasts. Every time, Hilda learned something new - how hard to nibble to get little gasps, the proper ratio of groping to licking if she wanted to elicit a long sigh, the way Marianne _giggled_ when Hilda pressed her face into a boob. (Or when Hilda said, "I love your _booooooooobs_ ," and drew it out like that.) 

Hilda sighed into Marianne's warm skin. She rolled one nipple between thumb and finger, and sucked on the other. Marianne groaned, low. She'd given up any sign of embarrassment some time ago, and she shifted her legs around under Hilda's thighs. Hilda wondered how wet Marianne was. She knew how wet _she_ was. Well, only one way to find out, right? 

"Okay, Mari!" announced Hilda, picking her head up and shuffling down the bed towards Marianne's feet. "I hope this has helped to show you how wonderful and appreciated you are. I'm sorry to leave but I have to attend an important meeting." And with that, she lifted Marianne's skirts and ducked inside. 

"Meeting ... oh no! Hilda, we have council soon! We'll be late!" 

Hilda put the skirt down. Marianne had one hand in a fist in front of her mouth. Her forehead was creased in worry. No. Nonononono. 

"Oh, right. We'll definitely make it." Hilda had absolutely zero desire to listen to Claude and Lorenz trying to re-enact traditional Roundtable bickering in miniature, but Marianne thought it was their duty to participate. "I will make this quick. No more than five orgasms. I promise!" 

"Hilda!" Marianne squeaked, but Hilda had already dived under her skirts again.

And here was one of Hilda's favorite things about Marianne - getting to know this secret bit of her. Her pale legs, the warmth of her core, the wetness Hilda could call forth with a touch, the - 

Ack, right. The many layers of clothing Marianne always wore. Fine, fine. She'd just have to work for it, which _for Marianne_ she was willing to do. She undid laces and buttons and pulled fabric down and off. And she carefully kept herself from complaining, because she was not going to give Marianne any excuse to feel bad or apologize. 

Instead, she said, "I can't wait to feel you, and taste you," and paused to hear the little overheated "oh my" that Marianne always gave at times like this. 

"Hm, maybe instead of earrings I should make you some panties, something easier to put on and take off. Would you like that?" 

"Um, if you think I'd look good?" Marianne's voice was rising in pitch a bit, as Hilda finally took off the last bit of underwear and slid her gloved hands up the inside of Marianne's thighs. Mmm. Hilda wanted to take the overskirt off and see what Marianne's face looked like, but she also thought Marianne might be more open if she couldn't see Hilda's hungry expression. 

"I think you'd look fabulous. Don't underestimate the power of nice underwear. I know. I'll make you some and then you can see what you look like in a mirror! Just you and my crafting accentuating your wonderful body!" 

Hilda started messily kissing Marianne's thighs, and whatever embarrassed protest Marianne made was lost behind the smacking sounds. 

Hilda spread Marianne's legs wider and pushed herself up towards Marianne's cunt. Marianne trembled as Hilda breathed over her skin, warm, pink, and inviting. Hilda reached under Marianne's (incredibly cute, also soft) butt and lifted her slightly. She stuck out her tongue and licked Marianne's clit with the lightest touch she could, until she felt Marianne pushing her hips up towards Hilda's face. 

"Do you like that?" 

Quietly, Marianne said, "Yes. Of course." 

"Do you want more?" 

"Yes. Please, yes." 

"Good! You deserve more. You deserve everything more, because you're kind and stronger than you know, and your softness is a gift!" 

"Oh no, stop saying nice things about me. I'm going to combust from embarrassment!" 

Hilda licked Marianne's clit with _much_ more pressure, and thrilled at the answering gasp. "Well I don't think you believe me when I say nice things about you." 

"I believe you. _Please._ "

Hilda hummed skeptically, but she dipped her tongue between Marianne's folds anyway. Yes, she was quite wet, and eagerly pulled a knee up to give Hilda more room. Well, Hilda couldn't really deny Marianne anything even if she wanted to. She kissed Marianne's perfect skin, sucked and stroked her button-cute clit, pressed her tongue inside her to lap up any moisture she could reach. 

She wanted to hear Marianne's pleas turn to moans. For Marianne she'd put in the work. (She would never tell this to anyone, but for Marianne she'd be willing to try and fail and try again, to learn and grow even with no guarantee of success. She was going to become an expert in all things Marianne.) 

And perhaps the praise really had worked Marianne up into more than just embarrassment, because it was a surprisingly short time before she panted, "Please, Hilda. I believe you. I'm lovely and soft is good. Please, your fingers. I need them." 

"Ohhhh. How could I refuse you when you ask like that, Marianne?" 

Now this presented a dilemma, though. Gloves on or off? Hilda did her best with her skincare routine - regular baths, plenty of sleep, rigorous borrowing of Lorenz's supplies - but there _was_ a war on and there was only so much she could do against the calluses blooming across her palms. But if she left the gloves on she'd need to do laundry that much sooner. 

Well, Marianne hadn't turned her into a completely different person, all right? She tugged off one glove and slipped a finger inside Marianne, who almost immediately begged for more. Two was easy as well, and Hilda went back to lavishing attention on Marianne's clit while she rubbed her fingers on the inside of Marianne's walls. 

"More, Hilda. Please," Marianne moaned, legs shaking. 

Marianne really was perfect. Hilda could tell her she was beautiful all day, especially if it was going to make her fall apart like this. Three fingers was maybe a bit tight, but Marianne clenched around them in a way that made Hilda determined to please. Hilda moaned herself at the feeling. 

Maybe Hilda should have taken her own underwear off. She was going to need to do laundry anyway with the way she was slowly soaking them. 

After a few minutes of savoring Marianne's steadily increasing moans, Hilda said, "You know, Marianne, I don't think it's even true that you're not strong. Some parts of you are really strong." She paused for effect. "Like your lungs." 

There was a slight thump that was clearly Marianne putting her hand over her mouth, as her noises became more muffled. "Oh, please don't stop! I love it. You sound fabulous and beautiful. Please let me hear you, Mari."

For a moment there was quiet, so Hilda went back to using her mouth _and_ her hands, and whatever composure Marianne was trying to maintain was lost. 

Marianne really was thrillingly loud when she got into it, her body tensing but her voice free. Hilda _had_ wanted to keep telling her how darling she was, but she couldn't exactly keep doing that without her mouth available, and, well, priorities. 

When Marianne did climax, it was with a shuddering body and a sound halfway between a moan and a scream. Hilda practically burst with joy at it. She threw the skirts off her head. (Ugh - she was all sweaty. No more of that.) 

Marianne was disheveled, but honestly, sincerely so, not _artfully arranged_ like Hilda would be in similiar circumstances. Her eyes were half closed, cheeks and lips flushed, hair down to one messy braid. One hand rested on her chest, and her breath came out in little puffs. 

Hilda took a moment to wipe her mouth, then pounced, putting her hands down at Marianne's sides and grinning. "How do you feel?"

Marianne smiled, perfect and soft, and said, "Amazing." 

"Good," replied Hilda, "because you are." 

Marianne reached up and put her hand on Hilda's cheek. "Thank you." 

"No problem! So ... now should we do colors or jewelry?"

Marianne's expression was one of shock. "Hilda!" 

"Hey, Marianne, we have a lot of potential items to go through, and I don't want to fall behind!"

Marianne sat up and crossed her arms. "Hilda Valentine Goneril, isn't it _your_ turn?" 

Hilda raised an eyebrow. "... No? This is about you."

"What about all the times you say mean things about yourself?" 

Hilda raised her hands. "I never say mean things about myself. I'm awesome!"

"Really?" Marianne put a finger on her cheek, and slowly started smiling. "What about all the times you say you're lazy, even though you're taking careful notes on when I'm too hard on myself just so you can encourage me? What about saying you're not useful because you don't do magic? What about ten minutes ago when you said you're only nice when you want something? Did you forget about all those times you carried Raphael across a battlefield to get him into my healing range? Or when you keep me company in the stables? I don't think I'm the only person who needs to realize I'm appreciated."

"That's just building up goodwill for the future. You can't use my own words against me like that. It's not fair to, um, fair to..."

Marianne gently pushed Hilda down and buried her face in Hilda's neck, and Hilda's last fully-coherent thought for some time was, "She is a darn fast learner." 

They entirely missed the council meeting, which Hilda had always known was going to happen. (Marianne _probably_ knew as well, but maybe wouldn't admit it.) They'd apparently missed some excitement, though. Claude and Lorenz had gotten up to some sort of insufferable Claude and Lorenz shenanigans and were both completely unable to talk. (Rumors conflicted, but possibly one of them impugned the other's sense of nobility and they somehow ended up in a spicy-food-eating contest?) Hilda was almost sorry to have missed Claude frantically trying to pantomime instructions about troop layouts. 

Almost. But not really.


End file.
